In a place not far from here, there is a secret little garden and in the garden there is an abandoned old swing that hangs from the big branch of an old tree that is there. When the stars are all alight and nobody can see her she runs barefoot to this garden that only she knows. The swing swings slowly as the wind blows it.
As she sits on the swing, the branch pretends to bend beneath her ghostly weight. Her feet kick up off the ground and the swing sends her higher. It is then when an old prophecy comes true: As she goes back and forth, the swing takes her to countless fantasy journeys of her past. She dreams the night away on the backswing and gives her legs a strong kick, swinging her way to the skies of reminiscences.
(Image interpretation by Alessia Brahimaj, Vinela Jaso and Juri Mici)
The rages swept away in the bath intensify the swells at sea. Now it’s clear that its face is only a facade. After all, water is supposed to mirror what’s on the outside.
He was mutely looking upon tiny people in their boats. Minuscule wandering souls floating in borderless waters. Those tiny fragile creatures who had not had a slightest idea about the invisible almighty hands guiding them on the restless waves. People have forgotten him. It was a long time since they worshipped him with airs and chants. Those were the lonely days for old gods. And these old gods envied those in the boat. The gods have not felt confusion, anxiety, sadness, or joy for so long.
(Image interpretation by Pab Roberts, Mazvydas Samuolis, Aida Staskeviciute and Ieva Barsauskaite)
'Are you going to give my head back?'
'No! I’m going to give you wings.'
With no second thoughts, the girl left the head to take the wings and fly. As she started her thrilling journey, she let the veil of clouds caress her body, the girl became one with the milky and blue sky. She flew for many days and nights full of stars. She danced with the birds and let the wind take her to places one’s imagination could never create. For the first time in her life she was on cloud nine, she had become a body free of thoughts, capering with joy, sparkling in the sun.
A week went by and then a month and two. With the time the excitement vanished and her body could hardly endure the fatigue. She felt her wings starting to weaken and destroy until one day she collapsed. Many times she tried to fly towards the sky, but instead her wings fell apart. She was left there alone with no dreams nor desires. She needed her head back to feel alive again...
(Image interpretation by Maxi Hamilton, Griselda Delija, Herta Shehu and Alvita Delia)
He ran himself a bath of thoughts that leaked from his own mind. He recalled many journeys and dreams he had, but the one that escaped from his memory was the trip to Calisto, from where he had brought a beautiful moon lily.
Life starts and ends but in the meantime there is always a beautiful flower flowing by.
Flowing by, but still staying around, as actually he realized he was in a real bathtub, trying to bathe with his suit on. He shook his head, looked around and saw many other astronauts of the crew in the same position: sitting still, with their suits on, half soaked in their bathtubs. It must be the post-Moon depression. He took off his helmet, went back into the bath and finally woke up.
(Image interpretation by Gabriele Lisauskaite, Andrea Popyordanova and Scott Giles)
A sacred calmness of an afternoon nap. Everything is subdued. Time is a river of growth and vitality. There is nothing to fear but time itself. Emit Flesti is my name. Let me explain a couple of things. Time is short. Time is your servant and you are its master. We are the creators of time. If one of us wakes up, time will stop.
(Image interpretation by Ieva Barsauskaite, Martin Skarback, Ieva Magylaite and Andrea Popyordanova)
'For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror which we are barely able to endure, and it amazes us so, because it serenely disdains to destroy us.' (Rainer Maria Rilke)
Bees come flying around her head, no longer to pour golden honeydew or to allure her with the scent of the pollen, but to torment her instead by a monotonous buzz. She is inundated with their bitter stings. And yet, she begs them to stay. She needs these strange little creatures to feel beautiful... It is through her endurance of pain and time passing that she feels the transformation into something she recognises as beautiful...
(Image interpretation by Alvita Delia, Fiorina Jaso and Maddy Shirrefs)
A very curious, but also very indecisive person, Marco wanted to see what’s on top of that ladder and at the same time didn’t want to.
That was a dream! What is going on with this Earth of ours? Must be something in the stars and galaxies. That’s it. Third night in a row he saw the same dream, strange reflection of his own life. He couldn’t comprehend... is he making the same mistakes because of “genetic railway”... or is it the rule of life.
While he was going back and forth on the stairs he realised he was not dreaming at all... that was the real life!.. Continuously repeating the same road... Same mistakes... Same pathway... Why? Where is the solution?
(Image interpretation by Andrea Popyordanova, Vitalija Karnilaviciene and Ilva Hysko)
Mr. Fly was looking at the flower. He was looking at the flower for hours, for days, for months. He didn’t sleep or eat. The flower was trying to communicate with him but he did not know that language.
He was fascinated by flower´s aging that was easily apparent... Mr. Fly could see how the flower was bending and he was thinking about her happy end but at that moment he felt that his head was exploding... was this his end?
(Image interpretation by Liisa Karhunen and Ilva Hysko)
I caress these thoughts
Though I take in too much
As I get overwhelmed
By both misery and beauty
But as time passes
I can finally see
That it is the beauty
Which stays within me longer
Than the misery.
That is the beautiful misery of my life, a bricolage of memories that induce voluptuous fits of panic on an otherwise lucid mind.
(Image interpretation by Nanna Ylonen and Maxi Hamilton)